Family Matters
by AnimaAmore
Summary: Kakashi lost Rin and Obito, his best friends and family at a young age. Years later he encounters a trio of young homesless misfits who will change his life - and he theirs. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

_**Family Matters**_

**Genre(s): **Family, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Action

**Rating:** T

**Type of Fanfic: **modern

**Pairing(s):** KakashixTeam 7 family; romantic pairings undecided (if any)

**Disclaimer: **_Naruto_ and its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. This fanfic and its plot, however, are mine.

**Author: **AnimaAmore

**Author Comment(s):** This here is just the full summary – a type of preview, if you will. Leave a comment and let me know what you think of my idea for the story. The reason I'm doing this is that I got hit by inspiration for it and just had to take advantage and get going. Also, I couldn't wait for someone in my poll to vote for it for me to put it up. So here it is. Please read, enjoy and review!

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**Summary: **Kakashi Hatake was just fourteen when he lost his best friends and only family, Rin and Obito, in less than a week due to a horrific car crash. Scarred both physically and emotionally by the incident, the shock and the despair, he swore he'd never let anyone get close to him again. Years later, now an adult and accomplished professional, he encounters a trio of misfit orphans living in the streets for fear that they would be separated in the orphanage. Their names are Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke; and they are only twelve - two years younger than Kakashi when he lost his family. Unable to find it within himself to let the same fate befall the three youngsters, he decides to take them in. Little did he know how much the three would change his life - or he theirs. But life is never fair, and challenges must be overcome.

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I couldn't believe my eyes.

There before me, the two little brats who dared to pickpocket me and couldn't be older than eleven, crouched protectively over a smaller, cowering figure in the middle of a dark alley, glaring defiantly at the much bigger and much older boys who looked like they belonged in a gang. And from the sneers on those boys' faces, they couldn't care less that they were mugging inoffensive little kids who appeared to not have had a proper meal in days.

"Come off it, ya little pest," one of the older boys – and the ugliest, too – sneered at the little blonde boy who stood half crouched over the little figure and half standing, as if he was ready to maim anyone who got near. The dark-haired boy stood just a step ahead of him, his eyes carefully sizing up the gang members. "We were just havin` a little fun. Weren't we, boys?" The ugly boy's croons snorted with laughter, and it was the kind of laugh that sent unpleasant shivers down your spine. It was nasally, bitter, and dark.

The two little boys didn't even blink. In fact, their eyes narrowed in anger.

"Just stay away from us, you jerks!" the blonde kid yelled at them, baring his teeth like a dog. The gang members' laughter subsided and I saw a glint of evil malice shine in the leader's eyes. He pinned the little group with his beady gaze, slowly moving his arm to swipe away his leather jacket, revealing his belt and a gun tucked securely in it.

"Whatdya say to me, you punk?" the gangster snarled, and I had had enough.

"Hey! What's going on here?" I demanded as I stepped into the prohibited alley. The heads of all those in it whipped my way, and the expressions from the gang members, which were five in total, ranged from surprise, to annoyance, to irritation, and to cruel smugness. The children's faces were almost unreadable, but I did see a flicker of utter surprise and horror. I turned my attention back towards the gangsters, specifically the one with the gun.

"None of your business, gramps," he sneered at me. "Now I suggest ya turn `round an` head back right the way ya came from and not breathe a word of this t` anyone. Got it?"

I quickly gave him a once-over, assessing what kind of opponent he was in a second before boldly walking closer to the two little groups as I stuffed my hands in my pant pockets. "Actually," I said, "it is my business. I know those kids." Yeah, they're my pickpockets.

"And I told ya to buzz off!" He gestured towards one of his companions and a big, burly guy charged at me, whipping out a shine of silver as he got close to me. I sighed and timed myself for my move. At the last possible second, I sidestepped the guy and tripped him easily, grabbing his arm which I saw whip out the flash of silver and throwing him towards the wall without so much as a glance. I heard a satisfying crack and a pain-filled moan before I looked at my victim. He was sprawled unconsciously on the ground, a switch blade by his hip.

"What the hell, man!" the gang leader shouted, forgetting about his original target as he found a new threat with me. "Get `im!"

All four remaining gangsters rushed at me, and I sighed, shaking my head. All bulk no brains. Classic little criminals. Don't even know how to work together; which was proved true when they started throwing punches at me, which I dodged skilfully, but ended up getting in each others' way. I didn't have the patience to deal with these punks, plus I was worried about those kids, so with a few simple moves I had knocked them all out except the leader. When I disarmed him from his gun and fixed him with a glare, he ran away as fast as he could while throwing threats about revenge and warnings to watch my back from now on every time I get near this place. I rolled my eyes as I saw him disappear behind a corner, then snorted in disgust as I saw his lackeys lay unconscious or semi-conscious about my feet.

"Honestly," I muttered. "Those who don't follow the rules are trash; but those who leave their comrades behind are worse than trash." I felt a familiar pang of pain tug at my heart, but I pushed it away as I turned back towards the small assembly of kids who were still in the alley. The little blonde, who was still in the same defensive stance as when I stumbled upon them, looked up at me with what I could only describe as a mix of awe, shock, and respect. The dark haired boy was a bit more reserved, but I saw his eyes reveal the same emotions as his blonde friend, though I saw suspicion in there too.

I paused. What was I going to do now?

After a couple seconds of awkward silence, I finally spoke. "Yo. I'm Kakashi. What did you guys do to get a bunch of gangsters after you?"

The two boys hesitated, the blonde looking at the dark haired one but he refused to take his eyes off of me. Seeing that he was alone on this issue, the blonde boy wet his lips and muttered his answer. "We didn't do anything. They started it."

He spoke so softly I almost didn't catch what he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. "What did they do?"

The boy didn't answer, and instead he turned back towards the small figure he and the other boy seemed to be protecting. I heard soft soothing, crooning noises murmured by the blonde to whomever was crouched in a little ball by a corner, and soon enough a pale, thin little face emerged from beneath a ratty brown baseball cap and a few wisps of pink hair.

Hold up. Pink hair?

I blinked my eyes several times, deciding against rubbing them in case any sudden movement startled the kids. Yup, I wasn't hallucinating. The third kid did indeed have pink hair.

The pink-haired kid was helped to his feet by the blonde, and the dark-haired boy stepped next to him so they formed a tight little group. The pinky was sandwiched and partially hidden by the other boys. It was evident they were being very cautious, even with me who had just saved them. I wondered what kind of life they'd led so far to make them so wary of people.

I stared at them as they stared at me, and for a brief moment I got the sensation of curiosity. It had been a long time since I felt curious about anyone.

"They were making fun of my sister," the blonde boy said, and I snapped my attention to him, not having expected him to answer my question. Truthfully, I kind of expected them to just turn around and disappear. "And they were planning to hurt her." The dark haired boy shot the blonde a warning look.

I let that process. "Your…sister?" I asked in confusion. The blonde, ignoring the other boy's look, nodded once, stiffly, before gently tugging the hand of the third member forward and pulling the cap off his head. The third boy hesitated, and froze when the cap came off. That's when I realized that _he_ was in fact a _she._ Behind the messy pink bangs that covered half of her face, I saw the distinct details that belonged only to a female. Taking a quick look at her body, I noticed that while she was thin like the other two boys she was also built a little differently.

I approached them, slowly, and I could feel the intensity of their looks on me as I did so. But they didn't move away or made any move to indicate such action, and for some reason I was grateful for that. I stopped just a few feet from them and crouched, resting my forearms on my knees. "I'm sorry to say this," I said, slowly, carefully. "But you three look nothing alike."

It was true. The varied hair color among the three wasn't the only distinction. Starting with the girl, I have never seen pink hair in my life. Her skin was almost unhealthily pale underneath all the dirt and grime that covered the three of them, and her wide, light emerald-coloured eyes looked at me with a mixture of fear and wonder; seemingly way to innocent for the kind of life they seemed to lead. The blonde boy had tanned skinned and shinning sapphire eyes which shined with determination, and three lines on each of his cheeks resembling whiskers. I couldn't tell if they were scars or some weird birth marks. The last boy had the darkest hair and eyes I had ever seen, and though he also had pale skin it wasn't as pale as the girl's which made me all the more concerned for her health. The look he gave me was one I can't describe. It was by no means friendly, but it wasn't hostile either. Cautious, more than anything.

"That's because we're not blood-related," he said, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. He was so quiet it was almost unnatural; the last thing I expected for him was to talk.

Quickly getting my erratically beating heart under control, I nodded once with my head, telling them I understood. "Okay. Where do you guys live? I'll walk you there; you never know what other thugs might be lurking around here."

All three visibly flinched at my words but their faces showed different emotions. The dark-haired boy showed anger and hatred; while he blonde showed disgust, and the girl bitter sadness. I knew I had hit a sore point, but before I could come up with an apology, they rushed towards me and knocked me over. I felt each of them wrap their arms around a certain part of me to accomplish this feat; one around my neck, the other around my waist, and the last around my legs. It was obvious they had done this before.

"Thank you," I heard a soft, feminine and childish voice whisper in my ear after I hit the ground, and the weights around me disappeared with only the light echo of shoes resounding around me as an indication to where they might have gone.

I pushed myself up on my shoulders, hopping to catch at least a glimpse of where the three kids had gone, but there was no trace of any of them. Even the silence shielded them as I couldn't make out any sound that didn't belong there. I looked around me, and the only things that proved that any of this had actually happened were the four unconscious on the ground behind me, and my wallet, which had been pick pocketed earlier that day by the little rascals, safe and sound in my jacket pocket.


	2. Chapter 2

**FM Chapter 2**

It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the kind advertisers would post in tourist pamphlets and make one who lived here sigh, content to be alive and be able to simple be.

Too bad I was neither an advertiser nor a tourist.

I was Detective Kakashi Hatake, and instead of snuggling in my bed covers, enjoying the dreamy morning of a Saturday, I was instead at the police station, in my office, with a cup of lukewarm coffee that tasted like hot water with brown crayons in one hand and a file of a case in the other. I was awake since five this morning reviewing a case that was unfortunately not uncommon. It was some youth who had blackmailed and coerced money from her aging grandparents to feed her boyfriend's gambling and alcoholic life. The case was closed, but the paper work, revisions and all, had yet to be completed. So guess who they chose? Yep, me, the man who had _zilch_ to do with the case. Whoop-the-fucking-doo. To top it all off, it wasn't the only case; hence why I'd been here so fucking long. There was also a missing person case (the kid was found in his neighbour's tool shack after getting locked in chasing a rogue bouncy ball), a home invasion (culprit was a stupid as a rock – he forgot his wallet in the victim's house), and a missing cat (who only had it's own file because the crazy cat lady demanded that her beloved whiskered, temperamental fur ball be treated with the same respect as a human). I also had _nothing_ to do with these cases.

Right now I neither cared for the gorgeous morning or for anyone. And still, here I was. I was hungry with only a cup of crappy coffee to hold me, I was pissed, I was sleep-deprived, and I was forced to work on a day that was supposed to be my day off.

By this point I would cheerfully strangle anyone who walked in through my office door, _especially_ if they were cheery like our morning.

"_Goooood_ morning, Kakashi!" my partner, Genma Shiranui, greeted in a sing-song voice as he kicked open my door, without knocking, and waltzed in looking very much rested and very cheerful. The bastard. He was supposed to be here three godforsaken hours ago to review the case with me.

"That's Detective Hatake to you, Shiranui," I snapped at him, raising my red-rimmed eye to glare hatefully at him. Despite having only one eye to glare with, the other being covered with a navy eye patch due to an incident years ago when I was a kid, it did the trick. Genma's happy smile slipped a little, and he paled when he realized how murderous I was feeling.

He gulped, before plastering another cheeky grin back on, though I could tell that he was fearing for his life behind it. "Aw, come on Kakashi, don't be like that." When I didn't answer and continued to glare, he shuffled the front of my desk, looking like a child who got sent to the principal's office and was awaiting trial.

Deciding to let him suffer a bit, I continued to give him a hard look for a while longer before slowly, deliberately so, I lowered the file and the disgusting coffee, shuffling papers around to organize my already tidy desk. Genma fidgeted, my actions clearly telling him just in how much shit he was in, but knew better than to say anything. He knew that his smiles and jokes wouldn't help him now.

Wise man. For once.

After about a minute of torture, I finally let out a long-suffering sigh, pinning him with a displeased, hard look that unlike the previous one didn't promise any suffering. I said, "Shiranui, you are a grown man and a detective of sufficiently high rank to know better than to blow off your job, even if it is just paper work. As tedious as it is, you know why it's important that we do this, right?"

"To make files for future reference," he mumbled. I nodded.

"And what is the point of working with partners, Shiranui?"

"Protection. And unity. Partners watch each other's backs."

"And do you think you just backed me up on this, by showing up _three hours late?_"

"No, sir…" he sighed dejectedly.

I let the silence stretch out for a minute longer, pinching the bridge of my nose as I sat back on my chair. Sometimes I just really hated my life. "Do indulge me, Shiranui, why you couldn't be bothered to do your job when it was required of you to do so." It wasn't a request.

He gulped, looking around nervously at everything but me. He knew he had really messed up now. "Um, well, y'see… I was… uh…"

I stared at him, silently just daring him to spit out some stupidity or other. I was known to be tardy as well, yes, but not for work. My profession is the only thing that mattered to me in this world, and I took it seriously. Genma knew this, so he knew he couldn't turn it back around to me, even though doing so would not excuse him. He may act like a fool, but he was not stupid. Far from it, in fact, hence why he was a detective at the young age of twenty-six.

I was nearly thirty, so I was his senior in both age and rank. Sometimes I really hated the system of putting seasoned officers with newbies. Genma and I had been working for about three years now, and he still sometimes forgot the work etiquette. One would think being with me would have beaten it into him by now.

"I'm waiting, Shiranui."

"Er, it was a…girl."

I raised an eyebrow at him, resting my cheek on my fist, my elbow on the armrest of my chair. "A girl, you say."

"Yes sir, a girl." His lips twitched at corners, fighting back a smirk. "Pretty thing, too."

"As were the past six."

This time he had the decency to look abashed. It was, sadly, true. Genma Shiranui was a player of the highest rank, expertly flirting with anything in a skirt within a ten-mile radius. He could quite literally walk into a bar filled with men and walk out fifteen minutes later with his pockets stuffed with phone numbers of the beautiful girls that hadn't been there before he arrived and walked him out, a bottle of wine in hand, courtesy of the house. I would know. I'd been witness to it on more than one occasion.

"Well, what can I say, Hatake?" Genma was fully smirking with what women described as a very satisfied, very smug male look. "I can never say no to a pretty lady."

"Hm, nor can they ever say no to you." I shook my head, letting out a long sigh as I massaged my temples. "What is this world coming to, I wonder?"

"Okay, that was mean."

"No, Genma, 'mean' is what I'm about to do. And you know something? It's not only mean, it's called karma. And karma is a bitch."

Genma dropped his head in defeat as he pulled over a chair from the corner and sat on the other side of my desk, dutifully taking a folder from the stack and beginning to do the much-hated paperwork.

I snorted before I grabbed the folder I was reviewing before he came in, and did the same. Both Genma and I knew that it was only the beginning.

About two hours and a sandwich (bought and fetched by Genma) later, I decided to take a much needed break and go for a walk around the block. My neck was killing me, being bent over papers for so long, and nothing soothed it more than a quiet walk around the ol' hood.

"I'll be back in about half and hour," I told my partner, who looked as if he wanted nothing more than to join me but knowing that even suggesting such a thing was out of the question. We both knew I was going to be much longer than that. I grabbed my coat and saluted him before leaving and closing the door behind me.

Once outside the police station, I stretched my arms and rotated my neck, trying to ease the tensed muscles in those zones. They relented only a little. Taking in a deep breath, I headed towards the nearest café, which was about fifteen minutes from the station. It was time for some real coffee and a snack.

Along the way I bought a copy of a newspaper, and once inside the Parisian-style café, I ordered a cup of black coffee and a raspberry scone before settling on one of the small round tables by the shop's window. As I savoured my little morning snack, I flipped through the paper. First up, the comics. I had enough of reading reports for the time being. Next I read the sports section. Nothing much, just some football player or other who was being traded.

Man, there is really nothing interesting. I missed my little orange books. Another reason why I hated today of all days. Instead of being at home, enjoying one of my Come Come Paradise novels as I ate a proper breaskfast, I had to instead sit in m stuffy office and read monotonous files. Tch.

I yawned and looked out the window, having had enough reading of any kind. People watching had somehow become part of my routine. I didn't particularly enjoy it, nor was I looking for anyone in particular, but I simply found that the calming rhythm of people quietly going about their business was an effective way to forget one's own worries. And yet, a nagging voice in the back of my head reminded me that I only truly began to do this after the encounter with the three brats back in the alley just over a week ago.

Yes, though it was only very brief and nothing particularly stellar, the event with the three multi-colored pick pockets and the gangsters had made some sort of impact on me. Maybe it was because the gangsters I had knocked out turned out to be a rising gang and I had just significantly cut their numbers. That got me a very delayed pat on the back from my supervisor. But I knew that it was more than that. Those kids, so thin, so scruffy-looking, so young… Somehow, it was the memory of those kids who impacted me the most.

I saw movement from the corner of my eye and turned, more out of reflex than actual curiosity. There was nothing there. I shrugged inwardly. Probably just a pigeon or something. I took a bite of my half-eaten scone when I saw movement again. When I once again turned to look, there was nothing. I frowned.

_Okay, Kakashi,_ I thought to myself. _You're either hallucinating from the crappy day you're having, or you're missing something._

I slowly turned back to my original position, my eyes flickering toward the window every few seconds. Call it the cop in me, but when something seems out of the ordinary I immediately pay attention. It had become second nature to me, so fighting it was useless.

There! I turned completely in my seat to glance at the bottom of the window, where a shocked face of a blonde boy looked at me. And it wasn't just any boy. It was my pick pocketing blond boy.

"You!" I exclaimed under my breath. The boy, seeming to have heard me though that was impossible, panicked and faster than I could ever give a kid his age credit for he jumped onto his feet and sprinted down the block, where I soon lost sight of him.

I couldn't believe it. I had just thought about him and his little friends – no, not friends, they had said they were siblings – and boom! There he was.

A thought struck me then. Was he _looking_ at me? Through the café's window? Why? Another thought wormed into my mind: this is a café. There is food here. He and his siblings surely have no dependent resources of food.

I cursed myself. Here I was, angry because I'd missed breakfast and had only a miserable cup of coffee to compensate for it before making Genma buy me a sandwich and now buying myself more coffee and a scone, and those kids were out there, alone, fighting for any and every scrap they could find in order to survive like some sewer rats. It made me disgusted with myself.

"Damn it," I hissed, gulping down the remainder of my bitter coffee, its heat scalding my throat as it went down, and grabbing what was left of my scone before rushing out of the café. I don't know why, but I had to find to those kids. Talk to them. Help them. I knew that if one of them was nearby, so did the other two. And yet, the rational part of me said that it was useless. Once those kids made themselves scarce, it was impossible to find them. Believe me, I tried.

I tried anyway. I ran down the block and the next, making a U-turn and running up the other side, checking every alley and shop for sign of any of the trio. No luck. I ran a frustrated hand through my silver hair. Today really was not my day.

It was obvious by this point that there was no way I was going to relax again, so I moodily headed to the station to finish up the paperwork, and maybe finish early. When I stepped into my office, Genma looked up at me, surprised. He wasn't expecting me for at least another half-hour, and now that I'd arrived there were faint traces of sweat on my brow.

He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a finger. "Don't say anything. Just… don't." He didn't look convinced, but did as was told and turned back towards his paper. I shrugged off my coat and tiredly placed it on the coat hanger by my door. I was really feeling like the old man my co-workers sometimes teased me of being. I shuffled over to my seat, my eyes shifting over to the window. The view was same as always: people here and there, some in suits, some casual, some alone and some with partners or group, going here and there, doing what they needed to do.

I wondered if those kids were somewhere among them.

I was about to turn away to continued my work when a flash of pink appeared under my window. I didn't think, just acted – I pushed open the window and leaned my head out, looking for the familiar pink that I'd seen only once before, a week ago.

Sure enough, there she was, a little girl with a head full of pink hair that looked like it hadn't seen shampoo in a while, flanked by a blonde boy and another boy with blacker than black spiky hair. They were under my window, which was on the second floor, holding hands and about to cross the street.

"Speak of the devil…" I muttered. I knew immediately that once they crossed that street, they would disappear among the throng of people. And then who knew when I'd see them again?

In a flash, I had snatched my coat from the coat hanger and was out the door, Genma's protests and questions trailing after me. In response I just called back, "Karma's a bitch, Shiranui! I want to see all of those files completed and on my desk first thing Monday morning, you hear?" Without waiting for a response, I smashed through the station's doors and ran to where I saw the trio last. They were still there, crossing the street quickly, and if I didn't catch up I'd lose them.

So I took on a burst of speed and hurried after them.

They weren't getting away this time.


End file.
